DetectiveOGasm
Poem Published
20th Jan 2025 11:57am
20th Jan 2025 11:57am
In Every Frame
1990
ABC Television
Laura Palmer
Waiting one week
for another trip
into that fascinating
and terrifying landscape
A master at the helm,
the truest champion
of the creative process
If you know,
you really know
No wonder I like Blue Velvet
and Lost Highways.
Eternally grateful!
ABC Television
Laura Palmer
Waiting one week
for another trip
into that fascinating
and terrifying landscape
A master at the helm,
the truest champion
of the creative process
If you know,
you really know
No wonder I like Blue Velvet
and Lost Highways.
Eternally grateful!
#death
#gratitude
#memorial #respect
#memorial #respect
54 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
13th Mar 2024 10:02pm
13th Mar 2024 10:02pm
Mourning Haiku from the Cafe
Mourning Haiku from the Cafe
mud on his grave
grows buttercups
for her spring blues
deep dirt
buries his casket
her heart wails
dust in her eyes
from his windblown grave
her tombstone blues
her tresses fly free
from the Mississippi delta blues
no more tears
she wipes dust
from his name etched in marble
tomb of no regrets
sentimental blues
sing in her mourning heart
her teary smile
mud on his grave
grows buttercups
for her spring blues
deep dirt
buries his casket
her heart wails
dust in her eyes
from his windblown grave
her tombstone blues
her tresses fly free
from the Mississippi delta blues
no more tears
she wipes dust
from his name etched in marble
tomb of no regrets
sentimental blues
sing in her mourning heart
her teary smile
#love
#grief
#haiku
#memorial
#graveyard
156 reads
2 Comments
AspergerPoet56
Poem Published
9th Nov 2024 6:10pm
9th Nov 2024 6:10pm
Echoes Of Sacrifice
when those brave heroes
bore arms for king and country
innocence was lost
the mustard gas crept
the grim reaper was there ~ to
collect the dead souls
seeping blood in mud
fertilising poppy weed
for rememberence
stark horrors of war
was the putrid remains ~ of
trusted brotherhood
true peace in our time
a fleeting concept ~ never
forget the fallen
honour in silence
with reverence the fallen
for they sacrificed
whispers of the past
echoes of the brave who...
bore arms for king and country
innocence was lost
the mustard gas crept
the grim reaper was there ~ to
collect the dead souls
seeping blood in mud
fertilising poppy weed
for rememberence
stark horrors of war
was the putrid remains ~ of
trusted brotherhood
true peace in our time
a fleeting concept ~ never
forget the fallen
honour in silence
with reverence the fallen
for they sacrificed
whispers of the past
echoes of the brave who...
#military
#senryu
#soldiers
#war
#memorial
95 reads
5 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
30th Aug 2022 9:40am
30th Aug 2022 9:40am
I walked in a graveyard
I walked in a graveyard and found
a stone secreted here,
behind this mound of earth
and branch of dying foliage,
the bush the Crypt Keeper.
And on it was written a name
I’d long since ceased to recognise.
‘Relation is it, eh?’ the old attendant said
to me. I turned to him, replied.
‘Relation, yes, but long since dead,
of course.’ The name on it was mine.
a stone secreted here,
behind this mound of earth
and branch of dying foliage,
the bush the Crypt Keeper.
And on it was written a name
I’d long since ceased to recognise.
‘Relation is it, eh?’ the old attendant said
to me. I turned to him, replied.
‘Relation, yes, but long since dead,
of course.’ The name on it was mine.
#death
#nature
#memorial #graveyard
#memorial #graveyard
292 reads
1 Comment
Strangeways_Rob
Poem Published
30th Jan 2022 10:35pm
30th Jan 2022 10:35pm
Ashes
Our mouths stopped for
One thousandth of a second,
As four hands rose from soiled lake.
A piano played in a glass factory.
We burned you into little shells and stars
Melted fingers into perpetual prayer,
Blazed the manuscripts of our library,
In memoriam, set fire to the psalm breeze.
The grave is a graph of the
Devil hunter striding the night,
Your shadows upon our shoulders
Lighten the mist of burdens breath.
Mum told me, or I may have dreamt it,
Flowers are the Poetry of Christ.
We...
One thousandth of a second,
As four hands rose from soiled lake.
A piano played in a glass factory.
We burned you into little shells and stars
Melted fingers into perpetual prayer,
Blazed the manuscripts of our library,
In memoriam, set fire to the psalm breeze.
The grave is a graph of the
Devil hunter striding the night,
Your shadows upon our shoulders
Lighten the mist of burdens breath.
Mum told me, or I may have dreamt it,
Flowers are the Poetry of Christ.
We...
#love
#death
#universe #memorial
#universe #memorial
383 reads
3 Comments
mysticstones
Poem Published
20th Feb 2020 11:38am
20th Feb 2020 11:38am
of Nashua’s light
With condolences in rhetoric
yet meager the attempt.
An expression of sadness
with tears, I present.
Complexities, the issue
from a vision,
shimmering in the morning’s dew.
Her tiny spirit soft upon northerly winds
in guidance, a mighty hand,
He sends.
Through the test of human belief,
her transcending
a teaching, simple, so welcomed relief.
We marvel, at the feelings, that now begin
how precious in life
a time, dictated, on how to mend.
As of man
lacking presence in mind,
Confront...
yet meager the attempt.
An expression of sadness
with tears, I present.
Complexities, the issue
from a vision,
shimmering in the morning’s dew.
Her tiny spirit soft upon northerly winds
in guidance, a mighty hand,
He sends.
Through the test of human belief,
her transcending
a teaching, simple, so welcomed relief.
We marvel, at the feelings, that now begin
how precious in life
a time, dictated, on how to mend.
As of man
lacking presence in mind,
Confront...
#love
#grief
#memorial
396 reads
2 Comments
Grace
IDryad
IDryad
Poem Published
18th Nov 2024 9:29pm
18th Nov 2024 9:29pm
He Said...
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/385793-the-weakness-of-we/
#memorial
142 reads
8 Comments
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
23rd Nov 2024 2:32am
23rd Nov 2024 2:32am
I Still Don't Like Kerouac, Papa
When your father dies of an opioid overdose,
your stepmother will call
at 1:27pm on a gray and freezing January afternoon.
She can't articulate much of anything,
or you can't hear much of anything
or all words are caught and suffocated into a quantum vortex
because you can't remember being told
"your father is dead, and he died from an opiate overdose,"
you only remember suddenly knowing, as the truth
rises from its depression cave
stretches its long limbs,
complains about its back,
puts on thermal long johns, ...
your stepmother will call
at 1:27pm on a gray and freezing January afternoon.
She can't articulate much of anything,
or you can't hear much of anything
or all words are caught and suffocated into a quantum vortex
because you can't remember being told
"your father is dead, and he died from an opiate overdose,"
you only remember suddenly knowing, as the truth
rises from its depression cave
stretches its long limbs,
complains about its back,
puts on thermal long johns, ...
#death
#father
#grief
#heroin
#memorial
407 reads
7 Comments
Baldwin
Poem Published
27th Feb 2020 2:10am
27th Feb 2020 2:10am
Ash Wednesday
Because I know that fame’s
a thing that can’t be carried with me
when I, as dust to dust,
go down into the grave,
and cannot serve as light or warmth
beneath the earth,
I hope now that my name
will be passed on with love
in an unsullied state
in others’ memory
and will remain marked out
on living tongues
at least a while
as if a flame that brightens
darkness at the end of day.
That is, I think, as much
as one can ask for of
the ever-turning world.
a thing that can’t be carried with me
when I, as dust to dust,
go down into the grave,
and cannot serve as light or warmth
beneath the earth,
I hope now that my name
will be passed on with love
in an unsullied state
in others’ memory
and will remain marked out
on living tongues
at least a while
as if a flame that brightens
darkness at the end of day.
That is, I think, as much
as one can ask for of
the ever-turning world.
#memorial
393 reads
0 Comments
Connotation
Poem Published
17th May 2023 2:20pm
17th May 2023 2:20pm
The Silver Spectrum
The silver spectrum,
Shiny, dull, ingrained shades
Betwixt black and white,
Were aged as
To coin cheap change,
Like a toss-up
Between life and death,
As coffins sparkle luster
From skeletal forms inside,
In the difference between
Gargoyles and graves,
Holding spirits at bay
Presumably sacred,
Had fault lines, fallen,
A forgotten infallibility,
When the exchange rate
Of a hearse spikes
To the plummet of
Funeral, burial,
Pastoral eulogy....
Shiny, dull, ingrained shades
Betwixt black and white,
Were aged as
To coin cheap change,
Like a toss-up
Between life and death,
As coffins sparkle luster
From skeletal forms inside,
In the difference between
Gargoyles and graves,
Holding spirits at bay
Presumably sacred,
Had fault lines, fallen,
A forgotten infallibility,
When the exchange rate
Of a hearse spikes
To the plummet of
Funeral, burial,
Pastoral eulogy....
#hope
#death
#prose
#memorial
#SelfDiscovery
222 reads
0 Comments
Rew
Poem Published
9th Oct 2023 12:03pm
9th Oct 2023 12:03pm
Driven.
There's a spectre haunting me
a ghost of a man from the past,
his death seems to have confused him
he thought his life would last.
He also thought he was off to work
on that fateful day
but some folk had fixed him, but good,
made his own thoughts go away.
They planted the seed inside his head
and waited, with due accord,
they planted the seed of self destruct
then pushed the button, hard!
Now, a garage is a draughty place
so he pulled the door down, tight,
and waited with his patient grace
to be...
a ghost of a man from the past,
his death seems to have confused him
he thought his life would last.
He also thought he was off to work
on that fateful day
but some folk had fixed him, but good,
made his own thoughts go away.
They planted the seed inside his head
and waited, with due accord,
they planted the seed of self destruct
then pushed the button, hard!
Now, a garage is a draughty place
so he pulled the door down, tight,
and waited with his patient grace
to be...
#memorial
157 reads
5 Comments
Northern_Soul
Poem Published
7th Jul 2024 8:52am
7th Jul 2024 8:52am
To my daughter that never was
I sit in a passenger seat
watching night’s wheels
drive towards the car
noise
and colour
softly blurring
I wonder
if that too was what
you were, my dear
passing light
kaleidoscopic
nothingness
a journey we once took
together in the deathly
December
dark
watching night’s wheels
drive towards the car
noise
and colour
softly blurring
I wonder
if that too was what
you were, my dear
passing light
kaleidoscopic
nothingness
a journey we once took
together in the deathly
December
dark
#daughter
#grief
#memorial
#motherhood
#historical
194 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Memorial by Top Critiquers Poems
